AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’ve waited a long time to know why he ghosted me. Earlier, he promised to tell me later. But he’s not going to want to start with that. He’s going to want to know why I was with the traffickers at Sirena. I can be patient through that conversation, but I won’t wait until tomorrow to learn what happened after the wedding. How I went from being his anjo to someone covered with plague germs.
I prop myself up, my back against the rolled arm of the sofa. “Let’s get it over with, while everything’s fresh.”
Rafael doesn’t respond, but he goes over to the bar cart and pours a bourbon, and I assume we’re going to talk. I pull my knees up to make room for him on the sofa, but he takes the chair across from me. It feels almost like a slight.
“If you want to talk, let’s talk. We’ll discuss your father after you tell me why you’re in Porto and how you got mixed up with those assholes.”
“I’m writing a piece for Eve about a young Portuguese designer who creates beautiful purses out of cork.” It’s not the main reason I’m here, although I have been assigned that piece and planned on popping in her shop to look around. It’s no secret that I do a lot of freelance writing for the magazine. If he doesn’t believe me, he can look it up.
He sips his drink, and his wary blue eyes narrow. “What’s her name?”
“Judite Furtado.”
He nods, and his expression becomes less severe. It appears I’ve passed the first test, although I suspect there will be many more.
“Valentina doesn’t know you’re here?”
He asked me about Valentina earlier, and I could tell he was suspicious that I hadn’t told her.
“I was planning on going to Judite Furtado’s shop tomorrow, then swinging by to surprise Valentina.”
“Did you have an appointment with Judite?” He says Judite with some familiarity, as though he knows her. I better parse my words carefully.
No, I didn’t have an appointment. “Why are you so interested in my schedule? Am I being interrogated?”
“You’re being prodded so we can get to the important details and then get some sleep. It’s been a long fucking night, Lexie.” He throws back the rest of his drink and places the empty tumbler on the accent table beside him. “Did you have an appointment with Judite?”
“Not for a set time. I spoke with someone from the shop, who told me she’d be in all day. They assured me that she would give me a few minutes of her time.”
“You ditched your guards, hopped on a plane, and came to Porto on a promise from a shop girl?” He leans back in the chair and raises his brow, waiting for a response.
“I had no reason to doubt the woman I spoke with. Any up-and-coming designer would love to see her name splashed on the glossy pages of Eve.” I never spoke to anyone from the shop, but it will be harder to track down that lie than if I told him I had an appointment.
“Valentina is out of the country,” he says, stretching out his legs in front of him. “How were you going to surprise her?”
“She’s getting back tomorrow night.” The truth is, I’m not sure when Valentina will be back—she wasn’t sure herself.
Rafael leans forward with his elbows on his thighs and buries his face in his hands.
I don’t think he’s buying a single word. Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow, when I was sharper, but then he would have been sharper too. If he doesn’t believe me, he’s likely to call my father and send me back to London to languish in a posh cell. My father’s guards won’t be so easily fooled next time.
Rafael gets up and pours himself another bourbon. “Do you want something?”
I do, but I can’t afford to relax while we’re having this conversation. “I have water.”
“All right.” He sighs, sitting back down. “How did you meet the traffickers and the principessa?”
“Stop calling her that. She’s not an Italian princess. She’s a person with a brain and feelings and blood running through her veins.”
“You’ll pardon me if I’m not completely sold on the brain. But fine. Tell me about how you met Francesca.”
“When I walked into the bar in the hotel lobby, I recognized Francesca from Saint Philomena’s. She was sitting at a table with Misha.”
Prime ministers’ daughters are heavily guarded, but I didn’t see a single one in the vicinity. If I know anything, it’s how to spot a guard. Francesca had slipped her security too. There was no other explanation. Misha had all the trappings of an uber-rich girl—couture clothes, shoes, and purse—but even from a distance, something was off.
“She’s a little young to be your friend.”
“Friends and allies come in all shapes and sizes. Saint Phil’s has a big sister program—like a mentor program. I knew her from when we would go down to visit our little sisters. Given how many Saint Phil’s girls you hooked up with when you were studying in London, I’m surprised you don’t know more about the school.”
